


Remember...

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Non-Linear Narrative, Peapod McHanzo Week, Pining, Shimada bros are bros, Suggestive Themes, crude humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-02 18:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17269241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: The second Hanzo laid eyes on Jesse McCree, he felt a spark. As their friendship grew, that feeling developed into love.And for the longest time, Hanzo was certain Jesse did not feel the same way.





	1. When We Became Roommates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psycholinguist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psycholinguist/gifts).



> Hello again!!
> 
> Here is my attempt at Peapod McHanzo Week #2! This one is for my friend Q, who said there wasn't enough content of Hanzo falling in love first. I gotta say, Hanzo falling first is my biggest weakness and I hope this fills the void, just a little.
> 
> I'm way less organised this year compared to last, I have this chapter, half of the next one, and one-sentence summaries for the rest. Hopefully, I can make it work. As such, the rating might bet bumped up to explicit later, and tags will be added with each chapter. The story is going to be told non-linearly as I strive to tell a single story with random prompts, and I am hoping that I can string it all together.
> 
> Cross your fingers, folks, and welcome aboard!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Oh My God They Were Roommates!

It is Hanzo’s worst nightmare.

Well. Taking into account Hanzo’s entire life, _this_ is so minuscule it does not even register. In the setting of ‘Hanzo is an agent of Overwatch’, which encapsulates his life for the last fifteen months, then yes, this is his worst nightmare.

He knew it was coming. The watchpoint is undergoing serious renovations of the crew quarters in anticipation of an influx of new agents. It means a handful of the rooms have to be vacated, displacing him, Genji, Hana, Lúcio and Torbjörn.

Hanzo would have preferred to have been allocated to any other person’s room. He would have taken Reinhardt, snoring and all. He and Angela could have had sarcasm contests over a drink. He would have taken close quarters with Genji for the rest of his life over _this_.

“You okay, Hanzo? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Hanzo blinks back into now, looking at Jesse. “Yes. Yes, I am fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause if there’s a problem, I’m sure you can swap with someone else.”

“No!” Hanzo snaps, too quick, too loud to be believably like there was _not_ an issue here. There is a big, glaring issue, and that is that Hanzo is in love with the man standing in front of him, and he is certain it is one way. “No,” he says again, slower, smiling for good measure. “I just need time to adjust.”

“All right,” Jesse says, approaching him. “I’ll give you a few to settle in. Just come find me or message or something when you’re ready so I don’t intrude.”

“Okay.”

“Take your time,” he says, surprisingly gentle. “The closet’s got room for your clothes, and anything you want to set up on the shelves is yours.” He claps a hand on Hanzo’s back as he passes, leaving the room.

Hanzo stands as still as humanly possible until he hears the door shut behind him, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding in a loud, long gust. He relaxes a little, now that the room is empty, now that he has the time to acclimatise and get used to the fact that for the next three months, this is _his_ room, too.

He has never been in Jesse’s room alone before, and it is a strange feeling, that despite him being invited in, told to unpack his things and make it as much his room for the time being, it still feels like he is intruding, that he is an inconvenience. Which is a silly thought, because if Hanzo was not assigned to this room, then someone else would be and Jesse would still be accommodating them.

“They would not have kicked him out of his own room,” Hanzo mumbles, placing his bag on his bed. Jesse’s has been pushed to the opposite side, it used to sit in the middle of the room. It is neater than Hanzo has seen it, much, much neater, if Hanzo is being honest. All of Jesse's clothes have been put away, the clutter on the shelves and computer desk is gone, leaving behind various knick-knacks, all themed with a cowboy aesthetic and is just uniquely Jesse. He has managed to fit it all on one shelf, leaving the other one empty.

With a smile, Hanzo unpacks his things. His clothes fit neatly in the closet, his toiletries in the bathroom, on the opposite side to the sink to Jesse's products, his incense sits alone on the shelf. His lily though, the only place that can sit is on Jesse’s desk, given its size and the fact there are now no empty corners. Hopefully, he does not mind.

Sliding his bag under his bed, Hanzo sits down, taking a moment to breathe. This is his room, his home for the foreseeable future.

Then it hits him like a punch to the face.

He will have to wear proper pyjamas to bed.

He can no longer walk around his room naked.

They will have to schedule in bathroom usage.

Jesse will be the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep, and the first thing he sees when he wakes.

Hanzo sits on that last thought, staring at Jesse’s bed. Surely it is not creepy, having these thoughts of his friend.

Tearing his eyes away, shoving that _perverted_ thought back to the hole in his mind, he stands, fishes his phone from his pocket and messages Jesse that he is done with the room. He gets a text back immediately but does not check it, instead putting it on silent and taking a long walk alone, talking himself down from his infatuation with Jesse.

Jesse does not love him. Jesse will _never_ love him.

And as the corridor gives way to _their_ room, with _their_ things mixed together on both shelves, Hanzo settles back down in _their_ bed, kissing Jesse’s chest before resting his head on his shoulder.

“You loved me, way back then?”

Hanzo smiles, lifting Jesse's hand to press their palms together, analysing the size difference in their hands. Jesse’s fingers are just longer and more slender, Hanzo’s a little wider. “I think I loved you from the moment I first saw you.”

“Shit, I had no idea. You hid it well.”

“You would think,” Hanzo replies, huffing a laugh. He looks up at Jesse and smiles. “I felt like a disaster. Every time you would walk into a room I would fluster, fumble, go speechless.”

“To be fair, you were a man of few words back then.”

“I am surprised _no one_ picked up on it,” he breathes. “Especially Genji. Or if he did, he did not say anything.”

“Probably thought you hated my guts.”

“I… actually would not be surprised,” Hanzo says, rolling onto his stomach, resting his chin on Jesse’s chest. “I loved you, for a long time before I told you.”

“I loved you too, but not that long. A few weeks after that, I really grew used to having you in my the room, and I started to imagine a life where you stayed.” Jesse pauses, bringing his hand up to run through Hanzo’s hair. “Before that though, especially after that first day, _I_ honestly thought you hated my guts.”

“Because I did not answer your text?”

“‘Cause you went all cold on me. One word answers, no smiles. Was wracking my brain day and night trying to think of what I did to offend you.”

“It was not my intention.”

“You were just an awkward dork in love and didn’t know how to express it,” Jesse breathes. “Thinking back on it now, though, it’s kind of cute.”

Hanzo affectionately rolls his eyes, pushes himself up so he is face to face with Jesse. “I am not cute.”

“You are. You glare, and you think it’s threatening, but you get these wrinkles right here,” he says, reaching out and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I think the piercing made it all the more prominent, and just made you all the more adorable.”

“If we are talking about cute, this permanent wrinkle is my favourite thing about you.” He teases the bridge of Jesse’s nose in the same way. “It is there when you show even the barest hint of a smile.”

“Would’ve figured my ah…” Jesse trails off, smirking and glancing down at himself.

“Obscene. But not false,” Hanzo murmurs, leaning in to kiss Jesse.

Jesse’s hand tangles in his hair, and the kiss deepens. As much as he wants to give in, he breaks it off, but not before kissing the scarred side of his mouth.

“I also love this scar,” he whispers, before sitting up. “Now, I believe it is a custom in Western culture that seeing your partner on their wedding day is bad luck?”

“Don’t matter if it is not yours.”

“It does, and we should respect that tradition.” Hanzo slides out of bed, smirking when Jesse whines. “I will see you soon,” he says, giving Jesse one last kiss before sliding on his sweatpants, a t-shirt and his slippers. He approaches the door and stops. “I am glad I told you how I felt,” he says, turning around.

“Me too,” Jesse breathes, sitting up, smiling.

“It took three months of convincing myself that there were no feelings shared, but the thought of living separately from you again gave me the kick I needed.”

“Been happy since then. My roommate became my boyfriend, who became my partner.”

Hanzo smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetness. See you soon.”

Nodding, Hanzo blows Jesse a kiss, Jesse mimes catching it and presses his hand to his cheek. And with that, Hanzo leaves _their_ room.

Hanzo was in love with Jesse for fifteen months before he made a move.

A year after he proposed.

Finally, today, Hanzo will marry his partner, his best friend.

Thirty months have been leading up to this moment.


	2. When a Simple Crush Turned into Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: AU, but swapping it for undercover mission in this instance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late and 99% done from mobile but here we are. The biggest of thanks to Magisey for betaing this chapter, and also late-betaing the last after concerns with the transition scene. 
> 
> As the title suggests, we kick up the heat a little. It's still within the M rating though.

Hanzo walks the surprisingly quiet corridors of the watchpoint, headed for Genji’s room. Genji, naturally, is his best man, given he is the only family he has, and has taken the role very seriously. His bachelor's party was what he expected: starting at a virtual reality room, killing wave after wave of zombies, and ending with drinks and strippers, he should not have expected any less from Genji.

As it stands, Jesse’s night was wilder. Something about almost destroying the mechanical bull at the American bar Fareeha took them to. The exact details have been kept secret; Hanzo should have accepted the invite to join them.

He smiles as a wave of nervousness settles in his belly. He does not know why he is nervous. Perhaps because he never really saw himself getting married? It was an easy decision in the end—he and Jesse were talking about spending the rest of their lives together, and deep down, a part of Hanzo wanted it, to make it official and have a wedding and wear rings, a sign of their eternal love.

He absolutely would not want it any other way. For the longest time he wanted to tell Jesse how much he meant to him, to yell it from the rooftops and grab the shoulders of every person on base, tell them face to face that he had fallen for Jesse.

So having this little ceremony, to make it official while surrounded by friends, is the right move.

Hanzo passes the gym and glances in, surprised it is empty. For whatever reason, perhaps he is feeling extra sentimental given he recalled that embarrassing story to Jesse, he cannot help but think back to the mission where he truly noticed Jesse’s body.

The moment when puppy love turned into lust.

“Twenty more.”

Jesse grunts, nods subtly but does not break focus, doing the last of his push-ups. He has been doing well so far. Exceptionally well, surprisingly, and it is because Hanzo has either underestimated him or is not going hard enough on him.

“Sixty,” Jesse groans, standing. He smiles wide, picking up his towel and wiping his face. “Easy, if I say so myself.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, gives Jesse a small reprieve before wiping that smile off his face. “Treadmill.”

“A'ight,” Jesse says with a wink, smile still firmly on his face. It seems Hanzo will have to try harder.

“Flirting will not get you out of this,” he replies flatly.

“Wasn't looking to,” Jesse says, over his shoulder as he approaches the treadmills. “Maybe I just wanna flirt.”

“I do not date clients.”

“Well that's a damn shame,” Jesse breathes, stepping on the treadmill. “How long?”

“Ten kilometres.”

Jesse does a double take, the smile finally gone and replaced with shock. “Ten?!”

Hanzo smirks; seeing Jesse’s reaction is probably the most satisfying thing he has seen in a long time. “You should not have gloated that the workout thus far was easy.”

“I'll learn from that, y'know,” Jesse murmurs, easing into a jog.

Hanzo hums, taking a step back and looking around the gym. This mission is interesting, if Hanzo is being honest. He is undercover as a personal trainer, and Jesse is his client. Members of a known anti-Omnic hate group frequent the gym, and they are keeping tabs on members after intel suggested they were going to interrupt a peaceful rally for Omnic rights with as much violence as possible.

It means that he has to listen to the drivel from their bigoted, racist mouths, but handing over all the gang's details to local law enforcement so they can make arrests for threatening to incite violence will be rewarding enough, considering they have ignored all warnings thus far to cease and desist.

Between him, Jesse, Lúcio at the front desk and Angela in first aid, they've already built a massive case: they've unveiled the gang's hierarchy, their plans for the rally, and what weapons they will be carrying.

He is thankful this is his last day; there is only so much hatred he can tolerate before he needs to channel that into a punching bag.

There is also only so much stupidity he can tolerate, too.

The only downside to leaving is losing this extra time he has had with Jesse. Hanzo will never admit it, but he has enjoyed telling Jesse what to do, pushing him to his limit, ordering him around. The sheer strength the man has is astounding, his endurance has increased during the mission. With often nothing to do but watch Jesse, Hanzo will also never admit that he has enjoyed watching him.

It has done nothing to help his crush. If anything, it has made Hanzo want him more, to feel his muscles under his fingertips, to taste his sweat on his lips as he nips and licks and sucks his neck—

“Over half way, boss.”

Hanzo's eyes snap to meet Jesse's as he approaches him. Looking at the display and confirming the distance, he is in a little awe that he was daydreaming for so long. “I suppose that is enough torture. What would you like to do next?”

“Oh? Feeling generous?”

“Do not make me change my mind,” Hanzo retorts. It is an empty threat, but he will always meet Jesse's snark with his own.

“A'ight, a'ight, hold your horses,” Jesse mutters, slowing to a walk before stopping. He takes a gulp of water, wipes his face with his towel and looks at the bench press. “Feeling weights.”

“Very well,”Hanzo says, approaching the setup. “Where do you want to start?”

“One-ten. Thinking of moving up to one-twenty five if I can manage.”

Hanzo nods, helping Jesse with the weights. “The usual reps?”

“Yep, start with five, see how we go. Don't want you to interject unless I call it out.” Jesse lies down, giving Hanzo another wink. He wraps his hands around the bar, and with a look of steely concentration, he lifts.

Hanzo follows him, hands underneath the bar but not touching it, while watching Jesse's form. He is handling it well, his arms are not shaking, his breathing is even with each lift.

He knows Jesse is ready for 125 kilograms—they have been working on 120 kilograms for the better part the week. Granted, Jesse has not undergone as strenuous a workout prior to bench pressing, but even so, that is a testament to his strength and endurance, that he can undergo a rigorous workout and warm up with 110 kilograms.

Jesse takes a small break between each rep, and after the fifth, Jesse moves onto 125 kilograms. Hanzo pays close attention, but at the conclusion of the first rep, he can see the minute tremble in Jesse’s arms, growing stronger after a moment.  

“We are going to stop after this,” Hanzo says.

“Yep. This is getting heavy.”

Hanzo helps Jesse land the bar at the end of the rep, and Jesse breathes out, long and slow, letting his arms fall to his side.

“That jump between ten and twenty five seems small, but you can really feel it.”

Hanzo hums. “You did well, though.”

“Wanted to get another five reps in.” Jesse groans as he sits up, and Hanzo hands him his drink bottle. “Thanks.” He takes a series of gulps before wiping the sweat off his brow, but misses a drop that rolls down the side of his face before getting lost in his beard. Hanzo cannot help it, but he has the overwhelming urge to lean in and lick it, and has to ball his hands into tight fists to keep himself from doing just that.

His eyes trail down, though, catching Jesse's pecs through the collar of his workout shirt, big and squeezable, two perfect handfuls just begging—

“We can call it an accomplishment, though,” Jesse breathes, looking at Hanzo, and Hanzo forces himself to smile, mentally slapping himself in the face to get the thought of sucking his nipple out of his mind.

“Yes. Of course. Absolutely,” Hanzo says, forcing his mouth shut before he mutters every single synonym for ‘yes’.

Jesse does not seem to have noticed; he wipes his face again with the towel and Hanzo cannot help but stare at his bulging biceps, then the way he is straddling the bench and _fuck_ —Hanzo wishes that were him right now.

“Shame the session's over though.”

“Yes,” Hanzo replies. What he wouldn't give to ask Jesse to lift him; he is certain Jesse has the strength to lift him without breaking a sweat.

“We'll have to continue this next time.”

Hanzo nods as Jesse stands. Next time will be back at the watchpoint. They'll be safely within its walls, away from prying eyes, and in a place where Hanzo can watch Jesse's workout and think about him in the shower after.

“Have a good one, Ken,” Jesse says, winking as he walks away.

“Have a good morning—day!” Hanzo calls out, realising it is in fact afternoon. Not that Jesse seemed to hear and not that Hanzo really cares; Jesse's ass is _perfect_ in those shorts.

As Jesse disappears around the corner, the gym gives way to the watchpoint's empty gym once more. Hanzo cannot help but smile; he really was the definition of a disaster back then. He had been pining for Jesse for six months, and that was the first time he lusted after him.

He found himself down a slippery slope after that, though, giving in more than once, those images on his mind when he was feeling especially lonely. Being back at the watchpoint made it worse, because while they kept up their roles, and even swapped when Hanzo worked out, they mostly had the gym to themselves and Hanzo could not help but stare, every time.

“There you are!”

Hanzo looks to his left, seeing Genji approaching. “Here I am.”

“I was just about to send out a search party. You're never late.”

“It has not been that long.”

“We were scheduled to meet at ten. It's almost ten-thirty.” Genji stops next to him and looks into the gym. “We have to get ready. We don't have much time.”

“We have plenty of time.”

“We _would_ if you didn't insist on going traditional.”

Hanzo scoffs affectionately as Genji drapes his arm over Hanzo's shoulders. “It does not take _that_ long.”

“Don't make me time you.”

As Genji pulls on him to get him walking, Hanzo gives one last glance into the gym, smiling fondly. The move into Jesse's room was only a month after that.

But he pushes that aside, because he should focus on here and now, and another wave of nervousness slams into him as they stop outside Genji's quarters.

By the end of today, he will be married to the love of his life.


	3. When I was His Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Secret Admirer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting there slowly! I'll be home tonight and Sunday/Monday I'll be able to smash out the rest of this and catch up hopefully!
> 
> The biggest of thanks to Magisey for restoring my confidence in this story. Love you ❤

“Sit, make yourself at home,” Genji says, prancing over to the couch and patting the back.

Hanzo looks on, raises an eyebrow at Genji’s over-the-top behaviour, but he cannot deny the fact that Genji is clearly excited. It throws him back to their childhood, when Genji was seven years old and was an aspiring hairdresser. He would pat the back of the chair in the same manner, and Hanzo, being the best older brother would always let him.

But that is then and this is now. “You will not touch my hair,” Hanzo says flatly, approaching the couch and sitting down.

“You loved it when I played with your hair.”

“When I was ten,” Hanzo replies, even though that is a slight falsehood. After one too many comments from the elders that hairdressing was a menial profession not suited to an heir of the clan, Genji fell out of love with it. There were days, though, stressful days where all Hanzo wanted was to vent to Genji while he ran his fingers through his hair. There was something about it that was so incredibly calming.

“You still love it though. Jesse plays with it openly in the rec room.”

Hanzo folds his arms across his chest in a futile attempt to seem annoyed, but immediately uncrosses them because he adores the fact that Jesse loves playing with his hair. He practically melted like a dog getting a good scratch behind its ears when Jesse brushed his fingers through it the first time. “Jesse, not you.”

“Suit yourself,” Genji says walking around the couch and taking a seat next to him. “Offer will always stand, when you change your mind.”

_"If_.”

“ _When,_ ” Genji retorts, grinning.

Hanzo opens his mouth to tell Genji that he in fact loves it when Jesse does it because Jesse gives the absolute best scalp massages, but there are just some things that should stay between a man and his love.

However, Genji’s offer is tempting because he does need to shave his undercut and could use a trim. Surely, it would not be odd, a thirty nine year old man asking his thirty six year old brother to style his hair for his wedding…

Sitting on that thought, his eyes settle on the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table. “What is this?”

“It is your favourite, yes?”

Hanzo picks up the bottle, analyses the label. “Chivas Regal, Gold Signature.” He smiles, glancing at Genji. “Not just mine.”

“Jesse's, I know.” Genji leans forward, dragging the two shot glasses across the table. “The two of you have expensive tastes.”

“He will be upset that I am indulging without him.”

“He will, in fact, not be upset, because Faree will be with him right now, opening an identical bottle. And I bet the sap will be feeling guilty that you won't be able to drink it.”

Hanzo chuckles, opening the bottle and pouring some into the shot glasses. He places the bottle on the table and picks up his glass when Genji raises his in toast.

“To my brother on his wedding day, who for the first time in his life is genuinely happy.”

Raising his glass, Hanzo smiles and drinks the shot. He pours himself and Genji more, this time grabbing his phone, turning on the camera and taking a picture of himself holding the glass in toast.

“And I thought Jesse was the sap.”

Hanzo ignores him, typing up a message: _To my love on his wedding day_. He presses send, picks up the glass and settles back into the couch. It only takes a moment before Jesse's reply comes in, with a picture of Jesse toasting back and the message: _To my sunshine, my sweetness, the love of my life._

Raising his glass again, Hanzo downs the shot. He pours himself another, and when he settles back again, he does a double take when his eyes meet Genji's. “What?”

“You two are as bad as each other.”

“Some say we work well together.”

“I'm going to need to drink a lot more to get through today with no eye rolling. Yesterday you were in your element, taking on a near horde of Talon thugs. Today, you're sweet and gentle and very clearly in love.”

“I _am_ getting married.”

“Yep, you are.” Genji looks at his shot glass, drinking the lot. “You, Hanzo, who is never happy, who has, so incredibly well, hidden this side of you from everyone. _Including_ me.”

“I have wondered if you knew I was in love with Jesse before it was made public.”

“I thought you hated him. I was shocked when it was revealed. Thought it was a joke.”

Hanzo smirks, a part of him is proud of the fact that he kept it hidden for so long. He looks at the bottle on the table, smirk growing wider. “I am surprised no one deduced that I was his… What did he call it? Secret admirer?”

Genji slaps his hand to his mouth, his eyes wide in shock. “That was you?!”

Nodding, Hanzo picks up the bottle again. “It was not my intention to remain anonymous. It… Just happened.”

“How does it ‘just happen’?”

As Hanzo settles in to tell the story, the sound of people and cars on the street and the shelves of alcohol from the liquor store come into focus.

“This is foolish,” Hanzo mutters, standing in front of the bottles of whiskey. “Nothing says ‘thanks for saving my life’ by presenting a person with their vice.”

Jesse was injured on the last mission, a gunshot wound to his thigh, sustained when Jesse pushed Hanzo out of the way so _he_ would not get shot. Hanzo thought he loved him before; this kicked his admiration for him into overdrive.

Although Jesse claims he would have done it for anyone, Hanzo does not care. Jesse took a bullet for him. For _him_ , an agent for the short six months he has been with Overwatch. The least he can do is repay the debt in some way. Jesse enjoys alcohol, and Hanzo remembers him mentioning his favourite brand—a sipping brand not meant for shots, something he likes to indulge in with a good cigar after a successful mission.

He picks up the bottle, the bright blue from the label contrasts against the golden colour of the whiskey. _Chivas Regal Gold Signature_ —he hears Jesse’s words echo in his mind. He owes Jesse this much, at the very least. While the mission was a success, Jesse has been confined to the medbay, leaving him unable to indulge in his usual whiskey and cigar. Now, at the very least, Jesse will have a second bottle of his favourite whiskey.

Before he can talk himself out of it again, Hanzo walks up to the counter, pays for the bottle, buys a gift bag when offered, and leaves. He thinks of a plan on his way back to the base, where Jesse will be the only one who knows about the gift, eventually deciding on waiting until Dr. Ziegler is on her lunch break and sneaking in then. While he is not above buying something for someone who risks their life for him, the fewer people who know about this gift the better, because when the thought of asking Jesse out for drinks enters his mind, he cannot let it go.

Assuming all goes well, drinks will hopefully be a common thing after that. They can learn a little about each other, and hopefully, just hopefully, Hanzo will have the courage to tell Jesse how he feels.

Until then, he waits in the mess hall for Dr. Ziegler to go on her break. The bottle sits in its glittery red gift bag by his feet, hidden from view of anyone who may walk in or pass by.

Which is why when Winston walks in, he is incredibly thankful that it is indeed by his feet.

“Agent Shimada,” he says, glancing at Hanzo as he enters the kitchen. “How are you today?”

“I am well. And yourself?”

“Good, good.” Winston busies himself in the kitchen, making his lunch. “Actually, can I get your opinion on something?” he asks, glancing up.

Hanzo bows his head and stands, picking up the bottle and placing it on the table at the very least. The last thing he needs is someone coming in, sitting at his table and knocking the bottle over absently.

When he approaches the counter, Winston slides over his tablet. “I am trying to negotiate a deal with the Japanese government. They are happy for us to provide assistance should they require it, and I would love to get a second pair of eyes to look at the contract.”

“I would be happy to assist you.”

“Have a quick read of the summary, but if you have the time, I have a few more questions I would like to ask.”

“Of course,” Hanzo says, ignoring the niggling thought scratching in his mind to tell Winston to give him thirty minutes to quickly visit Jesse. Work is more important.

“It’s _so good_ to be back on my feet.”

Hanzo has to refrain from responding physically to Jesse entering the mess hall. He focuses his attention on the tablet, reading the words but not taking them in as he listens to Jesse’s conversation.

“Jesse, it is good to see you up and about,” Winston says.

“Thanks big guy. I was practically clawing at the door, and as long as I go straight to my room after some food to rest, Angie has let me free.”

“It was mostly for my sanity,” she says flatly, heading straight for the kettle. “He would not shut up.”

“I get antsy being locked up.”

“Good to know that if you’re ever captured," she replies, leaning on the bench, "they’ll let you go after you talk their ears off.”

“I reckon so.” Jesse stands beside Hanzo, and Hanzo can already feel his face flushing. “Hey, Hanzo, how’s things?”

“Well,” he says to the tablet, before tearing his eyes away and looking at Jesse. Even straight from the medbay, bedridden for two days with bed hair he has tried to flatten down, he looks amazing. “I am assisting Winston with a negotiation.”

“Good luck,” Jesse says, chuckling. “No offence big guy.”

“I know how much you love paperwork,” Winston replies.

Hanzo watches Winston make his sandwiches, and has to resist laughing when Jesse sneaks one from the pile when his back is turned. His stomach flutters when he feels Jesse nudge his elbow, and he feels his knees weaken when he winks, before pressing his finger to his mouth and miming quiet. Hanzo just nods like the lovestruck fool he is before turning away and losing himself in the tablet before he combusts.

“Ooh, looks like someone’s getting something nice.”

Hanzo’s heart rate spikes as he looks over his shoulder, seeing Jesse standing in front of his bottle of whiskey.

“Wonder who it’s from,” Jesse murmurs.

“Is there a name on the card?” Dr. Ziegler asks.

There is a pause, and Hanzo is so thankful he opted to leave the card attached to the handle blank. “No, nothing on the card.” Then Jesse groans, and Hanzo knows it is all over. “It’s Chivas Regal.”

“Someone knows your tastes,” Dr. Ziegler says, amused.

“Reckon it’s for me?”

This is the moment where Hanzo can admit the gift is for Jesse, that he bought it as a small token of appreciation for taking the bullet for him, and they can have a laugh. Surely Dr. Ziegler and Winston will understand, and they are not likely to gossip to the others.

They are not the issue, though, Jesse is. At least if he went to Jesse in confidence, alone, he could have asked to keep it between them. It would be an odd request with an audience, and Jesse just loves to talk. He will be talking about this for weeks.

Either way, no matter how much Hanzo thinks he can tell Jesse it is from him, he is so frozen he cannot open his mouth to speak.

“Who else likes that specific brand of whiskey?” Dr. Ziegler asks. “It’s in a bag, it’s a gift.”

“Winston, did you see who left this here?” Jesse asks.

“I didn’t even realise it was there until you said something.”

“Hanzo?” Jesse prompts.

Hanzo wills himself to turn around, meeting Jesse front on. He looks at the bag in one hand, the bottle in the other. “I did not notice.”

Well. He could slap himself for that. Of all the things he could of said, he denies all accountability for the alcohol. Perfect.

“Hmm, all right then,” Jesse says, placing the bottle back in the bag and setting it on the table. “Guess I’ll send out a base-wide message ‘cause I wanna get to the bottom of this. If it’s for me, I’m goin’ to share it with whoever bought it.”

If Hanzo could crawl into a hole and die, right this second, he would do it.

“I don’t know, I kind of like the mystery of it,” Dr. Ziegler says, approaching Jesse with two mugs in her hand and handing him one.

Jesse gasps. “Maybe I got myself a secret admirer!”

Why will the Earth not open up and swallow Hanzo whole already? The longer he delays, the more desperate and odd and hopeless he will sound. He has to go along with this foolish plan now that he has committed to it.

“If you are ready, Agent Shimada,” Winston says.

“Please,” Hanzo replies flatly. “Jesse, Dr. Ziegler,” he says as he walks past, barely making eye contact.

As the bottle in Hanzo’s hand comes into focus again, he smiles sheepishly, looking at Genji. “I had hoped that would have been the last mention of Jesse’s secret admirer.”

“You severely underestimated everyone,” Genji says, grinning. “But everyone blamed each other. You didn’t come up though, because of course we suspected everyone else over you.” He takes a breath, easing into a small smile. “I assume you told Jesse?”

“I did. Probably a year later, after Jesse pulled the bottle from his shelf claiming it was still the bottle from his secret admirer.”

Genji snorts. “He held onto it for that long?!”

“He said he wanted to share it with the person who got it for him, and since we were alone, and it was just after a significant milestone in our relationship, I figured the time was right.”

“Thanks for that mental image,” Genji mutters. “What did he say?”

“At first he did not believe me. Then I explained my awkward behaviour, told him that it was a gift for taking the bullet. He actually remembered the events of that moment and filed it under ‘Hanzo must hate me’... And then we went for round two.”

“Stop,” Genji groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But…” Genji pulls his hand away slowly, smile growing wider on his face. “If it was your intention to give it to him as a means to start a relationship with him, that means you were interested in him, all the way back then.”

“I was.”

“You hid it well.”

“You have said.”

“Well, since you're so open to taking about this now, when did you know it was love?”

Hanzo smirks, taking a sip of whiskey. “Remember game night?”


	4. When I Knew It Was Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Game Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all love Cards Against Humanity, right? XD
> 
> Also, the rating is bumped up to explicit, thanks to the game. And ah, since the rating is bumped up, might as well capitalise on it in later chapters ;-)
> 
> Biggest of thanks ofc to Magisey for betaing and for being the Best Human Ever <3

“You mean our monthly game night?” Genji asks. “Cause we've had dozens of them, so you're going to have to be specific.”

“Cards Against Humanity.”

“The first time?”

“Yes.”

“The time you fought and bitched and moaned about ‘having better things to do with my time’?” Genji says, air quoting.

“I enjoyed it.”

“We know you did. You gloat, you know that?” 

Hanzo merely shrugs, finishing his whiskey and placing the glass on the table. “If you would like to hear the story, my undercut needs to be—”

“Yes! To both! Because I do remember you on that night, you and Jesse were practically having a staring competition and you always had the perfect card for the prompt. Without fail.”

Hanzo smirks, standing and walking into Genji’s bathroom. Genji follows with his desk chair, wheeling it in front of the mirror and Hanzo sits down. 

“You going to wear it tied back?” Genji asks as he grabs Hanzo's hair in a handful.

“Yes. I would not mind a trim, too.”

“Easy.” Genji reaches for a drawer, pulling out a hairbrush, scissors, and clippers. “Go on. I remember Jesse being so excited that he managed to convince you to play.”

Hanzo chuckles, and he can hear Jesse's voice in his mind. 

“I finally did it! Look who's joining us tonight!”

Hanzo gives Genji, Lena, and Angela a small wave, sitting around the coffee table in the rec room. The sounds of Lúcio’s and Hana’s voices carry from the other room, intermittent laughter as she presents Lúcio as her guest on tonight’s stream.

“Hanzo! Come in!” Lena says. “So glad you're here!”

“Jesse was persistent,” Hanzo replies. 

“Come, sit,” Genji says, patting the couch next to him. “We have plenty of alcohol, get comfortable.”

Hanzo takes a seat next to Genji, looking through the cooler and plucking out a bottle of beer. Jesse opens the box of the game they will be playing, pulling out the instructions and Genji, Lena and Angela huddle around him.

He sighs as he opens his beer and takes a generous pull. They will be playing Cards Against Humanity, apparently popular at the start of the century. Jesse managed to find it in a thrift shop, and now they have another physical card game which has possibly seen hundreds of dirty hands over the years. 

Jesse’s laugh draws his attention, and Hanzo stares as he settles down and his smile grows wider. The only reason why Hanzo is here is that he yearns to spend as much time with Jesse as he can.  _ Especially  _ since the new crew quarters have been renovated and Hanzo can move out tomorrow. 

Not that he wants to. He has had three months to tell Jesse how he feels and has left it to the night before to say something. Jesse said there would be alcohol, so hopefully, it will be enough to loosen him up, and he'll be able to tell Jesse tonight that he has feelings for him and that he wants to stay.

In reality, Hanzo would also not be surprised if he waits until the morning, bags hanging from his shoulders to do it. If he drinks too much tonight, he will not give himself the choice. 

“All right,” Jesse starts, looking at Hanzo. “Since this is the Australian Edition, which has somehow made its way to Europe, there’s going to be some Australian cards in here, but I’m sure Lena will be able to translate.”

“Oi!” Lena says, backhanding Jesse in the arm casually. “Just because they use British English down there doesn’t mean I can translate Australian. I swear you need a dictionary for half of the stuff they say.”

“Perhaps anything we do not understand we can add to a pile and keep it separate?” Hanzo suggests. “Until we recruit an Australian who can properly translate, of course.”

“That’s a good idea, Han,” Jesse says. “Well, since none of us are Aussies, we can probably use the basic rules instead of the ‘house rules’. One of which is called ‘Aussie Rules’ and involves tackling the current Card Tsar or physically overpowering them to become the new Card Tsar.”

“Please do not devolve to physical fights,” Angela says, sitting down in an armchair and picking up her glass of wine. “I am off duty and anything requiring medical attention will have to wait until the morning. And there are no guarantees that I will not be hungover.”

“Goin’ big?” Jesse asks, winking. It was not even directed at Hanzo and he gets giddy at the mere sight of it. 

“I’ve had a flick through these cards,” Angela replies. “We’re in for a wild night.”

“I am so excited,” Jesse exclaims, rubbing his hands together. He looks at the rules briefly before looking at Hanzo, smirking. “So. Instructions say the last person to have taken a shit goes first.”

Hanzo scoffs. He knows, just as Jesse knows—one of the downsides of living with someone—that he used the toilet just before coming here, and it was not for a piss. “You are lying.”

Jesse hands over the instructions, and Hanzo reads the rules.

_ To start the game, each player draws ten White Cards. _ Hanzo looks at Genji as he draws the white cards for everyone.  _ The person who most recently pooed begins as the Card Tsar and plays a Black Card. _

“‘The person who most recently pooed’,” Hanzo says, as matter-of-factly as he can muster. He ignores their laughter, saying, “Since everyone  _ has _ to go to the toilet I will openly admit I went just before we arrived here. I can provide an exact time—”

“Please don’t!” Lena says, covering her ears. “If no one else did one that recently then Hanzo can go first.”

The group shake their heads, and Hanzo nods, taking his stack of white cards from Genji and drawing the top black card. “I am starting to regret my decision to come along now,” he mutters, reading the card. He will need a lot of alcohol to get through tonight. “Why am I sticky?”

Genji snorts, and the group picks up their white cards. Hanzo speed reads the rules, he needs to shuffle their answer cards and read them out to the group. 

He sets the instructions down and drinks the rest of his beer in a manner of gulps before reaching for another. There is probably not enough alcohol on base to get through tonight.

“Well I got the first Aussie card, I think,” Lena says, placing it down, face up. “‘Mr. Squiggle, the Man from the Moon’.”

“Yeah, I got no idea who he is,” Jesse says. “Just pick another card.”

Hanzo watches as their four cards are placed in front of him. He shuffles them, taking a deep breath and preparing for this torture. “Why am I sticky?” He flips the first card. “Some douche with an acoustic guitar.” Then the second, “Pulling out,” the third, “Men,” and finally, “Slowly easing down onto a cucumber.” He looks at them. “These are not funny.”

“It’s an oddly specific question and we only have so much to work with,” Angela says. “Jesse, you can play acoustic guitar, can’t you?”

“Yup, ain’t a douche, though,” he says, looking at Hanzo and winking. 

Like glass shattering, Hanzo realises the meaning of the card in relation to the question, and he cannot help but bark a laugh, before the image of Jesse serenading him with his guitar then making passionate love fills his mind. He pushes it the thought away before his body can react, looking at the cards in front of him. “So I pick the one I think is funniest?”

“Yup,” Jesse answers.

Hanzo hums, looking at the question card, then the answers. “I suppose… Pulling out would result in stickiness.”

“Sweet!” Jesse exclaims, clapping his hands. “That one was mine!”

Hanzo picks up the question card, handing it to Jesse. “Here, have one Awesome Point.”

“Thankin’ ya kindly,” he says with a wink. Hanzo will need alcohol to not turn into a giddy mess with all the winking Jesse is doing. “Guess we can go clockwise to track Card Tsars, especially if we're drinking, so Genji, you’re next.”

Genji picks a question card as Hanzo holds his answer cards in his hand. “During sex, I like to think about blank.”

Hanzo cannot help but grin. Being on this side of the game is certainly going to be more rewarding. He reads his cards, and he cannot believe how politically incorrect these answers truly are. The aim of the game, he supposes, until he lands on the last card. “Does anyone know who Harold Holt is?”

“Yeah!” Lena says. “He was an Australian Prime Minister, went for a swim in the sea and never came back.”

“Was he serving at the time?” Angela asks.

“Yep.”

“Wow, to lose your country’s leader so randomly,” Jesse murmurs. “We can probably keep that card in rotation, since now we all know who he is and can explain it to others next time.” He looks at Hanzo, then at the card in his hand. “What does it say?”

“‘Summoning Harold Holt from the sea in a time of great need.’”

Genji snorts, long and loud. “I love this game so fucking much.”

Hanzo shakes his head, places it at the back of the deck before picking up a new card, considering everyone knows that is his card now. He flicks through his cards again, tossing up between  _ Making a pouty face _ ,  _ Raptor attacks _ , and  _ A bus that will explode if it goes under 50 miles an hour _ because it is oddly specific and is probably some obscure reference to pop culture of the time. 

He looks at Genji, looks back at his cards, tries to not think too hard about what he would think about during sex, ultimately settling on the bus one because it is random. It wins him the round, too, because Genji liked how 'out of left field' it was, and Hanzo realises that he can play cards suited to the person asking, rather than properly answering the question to win.

Perhaps this night will not be so bad afterall.

“A’ight, my turn,” Jesse says, picking up a question card. His smile widens as he reads it. “‘In the seventh circle of Hell, sinners must endure blank for all eternity.”

Hanzo looks at his cards again, picking  _ Raptor attacks _ because the rest of his cards are not appropriate to answer the question. 

Jesse reads them out, laughing with each one, and settles on Angela’s  _ Penis breath _ card. So it seems Jesse will go for crude answers. “That’s why I keep breath mints on me,” he says, tapping his breast pocket. 

“You keep breath mints because you smoke,” Angela retorts.

“Yeah, when was the last time you smoked anything that was attached to a person, hmm?” Genji asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Hanzo, mid pull on his beer, almost spits it everywhere when the image of Jesse on his knees enters his mind. He brings a hand to his mouth, sets the bottle down before it spills, looks away because  _ that _ gained the group’s attention and now they are laughing _at_ him, and he forces himself to swallow, joining in on their laughter. 

“For the record,” Jesse says as the laughter dies down, “I’m focusing on my career at the moment. And waiting for the right person.”

“Whatever,” Genji replies without missing a beat. “You’re in the midst of a dry spell. Don’t deny it.”

“Angie, I believe you’re next,” Jesse says, glaring at Genji before giving him his middle finger.

“Any time, any place,” Genji retorts.

“Your brother is sick,” Jesse says, looking at Hanzo.

“This is not news,” Hanzo answers flatly as Genji gives Jesse finger guns.

Angela clears her throat, holding up the black card. “Why can’t I sleep at night.”

Hanzo looks at his cards, over and over and is annoyed there is literally nothing that he can put down that will be shocking. He opts for the  _ BATMAN!!!  _ card in the end. Hopefully, he will get better cards as the game progresses. 

It does not matter though, he wins the round because the rest of the answers were too shocking and violent for her liking. And with that, sticking to realism will work for her. 

“And honestly, a night with Batman would be amazing,” Angela replies, sighing wistfully as if daydreaming of it right now.

“Hey, Angie,” Genji says, and he waits the literal seconds as she holds up her hand. 

Hanzo has to suppress a shudder; that is a mental image he did not need. He glances at Jesse, Jesse makes a disgusted face and Hanzo has to cover his mouth again to stop from laughing.

“Okay,” Angela says  _ finally _ , taking a long sip of wine.

“I’m Batman,” Genji says in the deepest, gruffest voice he can muster, which does nothing but make everyone burst into laughter.

“Can you  _ shut up!” _ Hana yells from the other room. “Your laughing is being picked up on my mic!”

That gets everyone laughing even harder, stopping momentarily when the door slams between the two rooms. When it dies down, Lena draws a card.

“Oh! This one isn’t too bad! Coming to Broadway this season, blank: The Musical.”

Looking at his cards, Hanzo realises it is a low blow, playing into her sexuality, but he picks the  _ Pictures of boobs _ card. He smirks as he wins it, as she scolds Jesse for his  _ Literally eating shit _ card, and as Angela has words about the  _ Battlefield amputations _ card, giving a brief lecture of the unsanitary conditions medical tents had during the wars prior to the twenty first century.

The rest of the night works extremely well in Hanzo’s favour, playing cards to everyone’s likes and tastes. It does not win him all rounds, of course, but he definitely has more cards than anyone else. 

He learns to only drink when everyone is picking their card, as drinking when the question is being read results in beer being spat everywhere. The discussion after is not safe either, as Angela inhaled her wine and spent a good five minutes coughing and spluttering as she recovered.

“Aw, shit,” Jesse says, looking at his question card. “I just wanna go on record an’ say I don’t have a tiny penis.”

“Questionable,” Genji retorts. It is as if Jesse is doing this intentionally. 

Perhaps it is the fifth beer Hanzo is sitting on right now, but he gives Jesse a long stare, not even hiding the fact he very obviously drops his eyes to his crotch. Hanzo has seen the man’s bulge in his ridiculously tight jeans. He is not small, by any means.

Jesse clears his throat, and Hanzo meets his eyes again. He looks at his card, opens his mouth, holds there for a moment before quickly and quietly saying  _ something _ that Hanzo cannot make out. 

Genji cackles like a madman, digging through the box of unplayed cards. “I need a blank card and a pen!”

Lena and Angela look on with the same expression of confusion that Hanzo surely has, and Jesse places the card down.

_ How am I compensating for my tiny penis? _

Angela and Lena laugh, and Hanzo looks through his cards. He picked up the  _ That ass _ card early on in the game and he finally has a place to use it, because Jesse has a fucking fantastic ass. 

Not that he thinks he will win, he is sure Genji will win with whatever card he has,  _ once _ he stops scribbling, but it is also possible that Jesse could not pick it out of spite.

As Hanzo looks at his surrendered card, he is certain he has not been more right about a card play this game.

Genji finally sets his card down, grinning from ear to ear, and Jesse begrudgingly picks it up, shuffles the cards, and reads them out. “I ain’t reading the question over an’ over, you get the idea,” he says. “How am I compensating for my tiny penis? Unquestioning obedience. Balls.” He pauses, glares at Genji and places the card down. 

Hanzo cannot help but laugh, with the word Peacekeeper written in big, blocky writing, no less than five exclamation marks, and underneath that, a surprisingly well drawn picture of Jesse standing in profile, holding his gun against his hip,  _ apparently _ measuring it against his cock. “At least it is tasteful,” Hanzo says, sitting back in the chair.

“And not wrong,” Genji replies. “Why the hell is your gun that big anyway? Why is it bigger than a standard revolver? The thing’s a beast.”

“That’s the point,” Jesse retorts.

“Ergo, compensating,” Genji says, shrugging.

Jesse rolls his eyes, looking at Hanzo’s card. He smirks, and Hanzo cannot help but smile. “That ass. Yep, this one wins. I know I have a great ass, and whoever played this card knows it, too.”

Hanzo holds his hand out, and Jesse’s smile widens. “Well played, sir.”

“You’ve been checking out Jesse’s ass, then,” Genji says.

“I merely played the card I knew would win,” Hanzo replies. There is no way he is going to openly admit he has been checking out Jesse’s ass. 

“We’ve all seen it,” Lena says. “You don’t need to get shy on us, Hanzo.”

“I am not drunk enough to openly discuss the likable attributes of my teammates.”

“You’re clearly not drunk enough,” Angela starts, words slurred slightly, “if you can say  _ that _ without messing it up. ‘Openly discuss the attributes I like of my teammates’.”

Jesse laughs. “Okay, Angie, you might wanna slow it down.”

“That was right, wasn’t it?”

“Far from it.”

Angela shrugs, picking up the bottle and pouring the last remaining drops into her glass. “See, slowing down. There is no more left.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Jesse says. 

They play another round, Hanzo winning in a clean sweep right up to Jesse’s turn again. 

Jesse has a chuckle to himself, he leans forward and rubs his hand through his beard. “Okay. Tonight, we will have sex. And afterwards, if you’d like, a little bit of blank.” He looks at the group as he places the card down and leans back in his seat. “Have at me.”

Well. Hanzo has to swallow the lump in his throat, because he has the  _ perfect _ card which is his  _ perfect _ scenario. It is taking so much willpower not to go hard at the very thought of it, of fucking Jesse senseless, then sitting on his face and coming apart with nothing but his tongue. 

It might seem desperate, but he slams his  _ Ass to mouth _ card down, giving Jesse another good, long stare as he sits back in his seat. He does not take his eyes off Jesse, as Jesse looks away, his attention drawn to the others who are giggling like school children.

And right now, he is sitting on the right side of drunk that he should probably care that the others might work out that Hanzo has a crush on him, that Hanzo actually  _ wants _ this, and it just isn’t ‘another card that made sense to play’. 

“All right,” Jesse says, picking up the cards in front of him. He glances at Hanzo as he shuffles them, and Hanzo takes a pull of beer, which honestly he is not sure is coming across as seductive or not. He sees Jesse’s Adam’s apple bob though, and winks in response. 

Jesse clears his throat, looking down at the cards. He reads out the black card, flips the first white card, flips it back, glances at Hanzo before flipping it back over again. “Ass to mouth.”

Lena groans, stands and does her usual walk around the room when someone plays a crude card. Hanzo ignores her, instead watching Jesse sit back in his seat and fan himself with his hat. “Fuck, did someone turn up the heat or something?”

“No one needs to know what kinky shit you’re into,” Genji grouses. “Read the rest of them, they’re better than that one.”

“Let’s see…” Jesse flips the next card. “Tentacle porn. Real original, Genj,” he retorts when Genji bursts into laughter. “Frolicking. Don’t know ‘bout you guys but I get real tired when I’ve done the deed.” He flips the final card, looking at Lena. “Harry Potter erotica, huh?”

“I’ve been holding onto that one for so long,” she groans. 

“Don’t know, and don’t rightly care ‘bout you guys, but I’m goin’ ass to mouth. ‘Cause I’d like that,” he looks at Hanzo, smirking. “Very much.”

“Lame,” Genji says. “If this is how we’re going to play it, I’m done. Whatever  _ this _ is,” he says, waving his hand between Hanzo and Jesse, “I don’t need to be witness to any of it.”

“I think we’re too drunk to play anyway,” Angela says. “And I have reached the point where I can doze off.”

“Okay, let’s get you to bed, Angie,” Lena says, standing up and offering a hand to Angela. She stands, resting her weight on Lena. 

“Thank you for an entertaining evening. It has been too long since I had one,” Angela says, surprisingly clear for someone who is obviously drunk. “Good night.”

“‘Night,” Jesse says, and Lena waves before leading Angela out of the rec room, Genji heads to the adjoining room where Hana and Lucio are, leaving Hanzo alone with Jesse. “So… Have fun?”

“I did,” Hanzo says, looking at the abandoned cards. “I would like to play again sometime.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to break it out again.” Jesse starts gathering cards and Hanzo helps, and even though he feels like he is still riding the high of the last round, he feels that for every second that passes, it seems odd to bring it up the scenario again. 

He realises, as time goes on, that it is a decision he should not be making when he is so drunk. “It is a good thing we live in the same room,” Hanzo says as Jesse picks up the box. 

Jesse hesitates, and Hanzo hears his audible swallow. “Why’s that?” he asks, and Hanzo notices his voice is higher pitched than normal. 

“So I can walk you to your room,” Hanzo says, wrapping his arm around Jesse’s waist and patting his chest. “I have enjoyed this evening, and I do not want it to end.” Hanzo goes to walk, trips over his feet and almost sends Jesse crashing to the ground with him. Now  _ that  _ would have been awkward, Hanzo on the floor, Jesse on top of him, in the middle of the rec room, mere inches apart. Hanzo would reach up, curl a hand around the back of Jesse's neck and pull him down into a searing kiss… Hanzo can feel himself swelling.

“A’ight, let’s get you to bed,” Jesse says, chuckling. “Ain’t ever seen you this drunk.”

“I am fine,” Hanzo says, waving his hand before leaning into Jesse just that little bit more. He has never had this much body contact with Jesse before, he can feel the warmth through his clothes, the muscles in his chest.

Savouring every single second of this, Hanzo realises that there is absolutely no way he can step away from this. From Jesse's sense of humour, his kind and caring personality, his hot body—he is too far gone, too far in love with him to walk away. 

Tonight was the first time Jesse flirted back, and he made his thoughts  _ very _ clear with the last card played. Jesse is interested in him, and it feels like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm. 

Jesse is interested in him. Hanzo smiles, turning his head slightly, breathing in Jesse's smell. From the alcohol, the cigar smoke, to the barest hint of his body odour, Hanzo practically shudders, getting off on it.

But too soon, much too soon for Hanzo’s liking, they are back at Jesse’s quarters, and Jesse eases him onto his bed. 

“There you go,” Jesse says. “Do you need a hand getting undressed?”

“I am fine,” Hanzo says, taking off his shirt and dropping it to the floor. He pulls off his boots, stands and undoes his jeans, and Jesse turns around, stands still very awkwardly before placing the box down on his desk and heading for the bathroom. Hanzo huffs, a little annoyed that Jesse did not stay to look at his body, but mostly glad because he has an erection and  _ that _ could have made things awkward. 

They are too drunk to have sex tonight anyway. Sighing, he climbs into bed, closes his eyes, and is asleep before Jesse returns.

Hanzo settles on his reflection again, glancing at Genji and smiling. 

“I get so oblivious when I’m drunk,” Genji groans. “It was so obvious, thinking back on it now.”

“I was constantly staring at him,” Hanzo says, touching the shorter hairs of his undercut. “I really am surprised no one noticed.”

“You probably haven’t seen your face when you stare at him. Well,  _ stared _ at him, back then. It was almost serial killer-ish. You didn’t smile, you didn’t respond. You just  _ stared, _ like you were thinking about ways to murder him then dispose of his body.”

“It is not that bad.”

“It’s pretty bad. I had to assure him that you weren’t going to kill him when you joined. I think that game night might have been the first instance where  _ he _ realised your staring wasn’t murderous, only because you loosened up with alcohol.”

Hanzo does not say anything, just lets Genji’s words rattle around in his mind. That would make sense, why no one picked up on it, and why it took Jesse so long to legitimately flirt back. Hanzo does have a very serious face when not smiling, and he supposes it could be off-putting. It worked in his favour in any case, perhaps a little too well, but that is in the past. It does not matter now.

“But I am glad that you did not do anything while drunk,” Genji murmurs, resting his hands on Hanzo's shoulders.

“We did not do anything for a long time.”

“Don’t need to know,” Genji yells. “Please, I have no interest in your sex life, stop trying to talk to me about it.”

“You brought it up.”

“I was merely—No, you know what, we have a wedding to get ready for, and it is going to take you  _ forever _ to get dressed." He backsteps out of the bathroom. "Come on.”

Hanzo smirks at his reflection, turning his head to see the neat top-knot his hair is in. There is not a single hair that is out of place, his hair is shiny and smooth, and Genji really is the best hairdresser he has ever had.  

And with that thought, Hanzo stands and exits the bathroom. His day is only starting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Australian Edition, because it is the one I have hahaha. 
> 
> Cause I'm a giant nerd and wanted to convey the limitations of the game, I played the game as if they were playing it. I dealt out cards, I preselected probably fifty questions/prompts, shuffled, and had at it. Jesse's 'tiny penis' card was random and fucking perfect, and the only time I had an influence on the game was the last round, where I picked the "Tonight we will have sex..." question and dug through half my deck for an appropriate answer, cause I needed to end it and I honestly could have kept going hahaha.


	5. When I Knew I Would Spend the Rest of My Life with Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life and writer's block are a duo more powerful than I. The biggest of thanks goes to the amazing Magisey for getting me out of this funk. I want to thank you guys too for your support, I did love this fic, then fell out of love, and I'm trying to gain it back. Your love, support and words of encouragement mean the world to me, and I will reply to your messages when irl stuff settles down a bit.
> 
> For this chapter, I'm going for something a little different to the obvious. Warning for canon-typical violence and mentions of blood. 
> 
> Hoping days 6 and 7 go a little smoother.

Hanzo looks at his attire for the wedding, as another wave of nervousness crashes into him. 

It was an easy decision to wear traditional clothing. Despite his family and what they did, it is his heritage. He is a Shimada, and will always  _ be _ a Shimada, and as such, the haori has the family crest on it.   

He spent the money to get it tailored, finding somewhere he could rent it in Europe was proving difficult. On top of that, it is a memento. Yes, he only has the intention to wear it once, but it will always be there, in their closet, a reminder of this beautiful, amazing day and the love he shares for his man. 

Genji opted to wear a suit, draped on the bed beside Hanzo’s clothes. It is something similar to what Father would have worn had he been here: simple, elegant, perfect. 

“Do you need a hand getting dressed?” Genji asks.

“I will manage.”

“All right,” Genji says, taking his suit. “I’ll get changed in the bathroom. Call out if you get tangled.”

“I will manage,” Hanzo says again, watching Genji step into the bathroom. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he picks up the nagajuban, looking at the white silken undergarment before placing it down on the bed and undressing. 

“You know,” Genji calls out, “I never, ever thought that you and Jesse would get along.”

Hanzo huffs a laugh. “Opposites attract.”

“You would have hated Jesse in his twenties. He was loud, highly opinionated, he didn’t care what anyone thought of him. Messy, so incredibly messy. I gave up trying to clean up after him.”

“You shared a room?”

“Yep. With like eight other people. His stuff was just everywhere. It seems he has mellowed out with age.”

“Not really,” Hanzo replies, tying the nagajuban before picking up the kimono. “He is still loud, opinionated, does not care what people think, and he is messy.”

“Please don’t tell me you clean up after him.”

“He is a grown man, he can clean up after himself. Though I suppose he has a lower tolerance for mess these days.”

“Since you’re so open about your relationship all of a sudden, when did you know he was the one?”

Hanzo smiles, sliding into the kimono. “The mission he played sniper.”

“Where you swapped roles? You were on the ground, revolver in your hand. That’s when he had to come in and rescue you like a damsel in distress.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes. “He did not ‘come in’. He stayed on the roof and did his job.”

“His job was to keep an eye on the target. His eyes were on you. The mission failed.”

“But he saved my life…” Hanzo replies. The smile falls from his face as the agitation of seeing Jesse with a sniper rifle slowly bubbles up.

“This is ridiculous. I am the sniper.”

“I know,” Winston says, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “But we need you in the room. These people are dangerous, Hanzo, and you have the perfect skill set to not back down.”

“I know what I’m doin’,” Jesse says. “Practiced sniping in Blackwatch, learned from the best.” Jesse glances at Ana and winks. 

“He is ready,” Ana replies. “Your life before Overwatch was dealing with people like this, yes?”

“Dealing with the Russian mafia and negotiating trade deals? Yes.”

“Trust me, Hanzo, if I could be in there with you—hell, even swap with you—I would.”

“But such as it is,” Winston sighs, putting on his glasses again, “if they discover Jesse is an American, then the plan will blow up in our faces.”

“And I’m shit at putting on accents.”

Hanzo inhales and exhales deeply. This group of the Bratva is so anti-American it is considered racist. The fact that people are still like this in this day and age is astounding. 

He looks at the mission brief on his tablet again. The mission is to examine their hardware, see if the rumours of anti-omnic weaponry are true before arresting them and shutting the operation down. He  _ has _ dealt with people like this before, and ultimately, given everyone else currently in Overwatch, he is the right person for the job. 

“For the sake of the mission,” Hanzo says, looking at Winston, “I will fulfill this role without further complaint.”

“Thank you,” Winston replies. “Are you confident in Jesse’s skills? As a sniper yourself?”

“He is an exceptional sniper, and the best marksman I have seen. He will do his job well.” 

Jesse smiles wide, and Hanzo smiles back. “Well then, that’s a massive boost to my confidence right there.”

“And, of course,” Winston continues, “you won’t be alone, you’ll have Genji and Fareeha as your bodyguards.”

“And you will have Helix ready to assist with dismantling the gang,” Fareeha adds.

“I am not worried about my safety, I am confident in taking these people on in hand-to-hand combat if required, it is just—” Hanzo looks at Jesse, then at Winston, opting to keep his mouth shut. He literally just promised that he would not complain further. “Never mind.” 

“You are our sniper,” Winston finishes. “Think of it this way: now we have two.”

Hanzo nods, stews on those words the entire flight to Russia, in the meeting, and when it goes belly up.

“I should not be here,” Hanzo mutters, closing his eyes, just for a moment, to mitigate the searing pain in his left shoulder. He knows cowering behind this chair is a bad idea, but he does not have a choice at the moment. 

“ _ What the hell happened?” _

Hanzo reels from the sudden loudness of Jesse’s voice in his ear. Another gunshot rings out, flying past his shoulder, and Hanzo fires back, using the opportunity to shelter around a corner. “I have been discovered.”

_ “No shit.” _

“Two of Volkov’s guards came in, I deduced from their body language that I had been discovered.”

The door Hanzo is standing in front of opens, and he kicks it closed, holding it in place with his foot. Another shot, it barely misses his foot and embeds in the door as it hits something metal. It makes sense for it to have some form of plating, he supposes.

“I took them out.” Hanzo can see the body of the guard who took the dagger to the neck. A good shot, considering he threw it at him. The second got a bullet between the eyes, not before Volkov took a shot at him. At least his aim is bad. 

_ “I got eyes, but I can’t get a good shot on Volkov. Gotta change positions.” _

“Focus on the payload, I have this.” Hanzo peeks around the corner, the shot embeds in the wall just an inch from his head. There is a brief pause and Hanzo hears the thud of an empty clip hitting the floor, giving him the opportunity to lock the door, peek around the corner and take a few shots of his own, seeing if he can draw Volkov out. 

The second he sees his hand appear from above the table, Hanzo fires. It hits the gun, Volkov shouts, and if Hanzo is lucky, he broke a finger or two. It buys Hanzo time, enough to reload, but not before he hears Volkov’s heavy footsteps.

“You have balls, little man.”

Hanzo grips his gun tight, stepping out from the corner. After an insult like that, he is  _ not _ going to hide. He aims the gun at Volkov’s head, as Volkov aims his at Hanzo’s. He does not fire, though, he stays in this tense standoff.

“Who are you, really?” Volkov asks, grinning. “Because you are not who you say you are.”

“It is of no importance.”

“Interpol, perhaps?”

_ “Hanzo, when I give you the signal, duck.” _

Hanzo tightens his grip, making no other attempt to show his frustration at Jesse.

“Or maybe the rumours of a recalled Overwatch are true. They must be desperate if they've taken in an ex-Yakuza.” His smile grows wider when Hanzo narrows his eyes. “There are people out there who will pay good money to see your body. So thank you, for this opportunity—”

_ “Now!” _

Hanzo ducks as one shot rings out, almost instantly followed by a second. There is a loud thud, and Hanzo sees the crumpled form of Volkov at his feet. 

Standing, Hanzo looks at the hole in the window, then the glint of a scope on the building Jesse is on. “I had this,” he growls.

_ “He was ready to kill you.” _

“I would have fired first.”

_ “And you would've been hit.” _

Hanzo huffs, looking at the wall behind him, seeing a bullet hole. That explains the second shot. “Thank you,” he grounds out. As much as he knows he could have killed Volkov, he could have been gravely wounded. 

As he looks at Volkov again, the pain in his shoulder increases, and he presses his hand to it. “What of the mission?”

_ “The second they realised you weren't who you said you were, they went into lockdown. Helix couldn't get in—they think there might be an underground escape or something.” _

“So you couldn't get a shot in even if you wanted.”

_ “Well… I could have changed positions, but you needed help.” _

“You jeopardised the mission for me.”

_ “I got your back. Always have, always will.” _

“Thank you.” Hanzo's anger starts to simmer away as he pulls his dagger from the dead guard and grabs the empty clip from the floor. He picks up his glass and wipes it down, silently bidding farewell to the best vodka he has had the pleasure of drinking before smashing it on the floor. 

Unlocking and opening the door, Hanzo sees the bodies of Volkov's guards, one of which has a shuriken still embedded in their chest. Genji and Fareeha are nowhere to be seen, but he needs to get out of the building and to the rendezvous point before law enforcement arrives. He quickly wipes down the handles and lock, removing all evidence of him being in the room, picks up the forgotten shuriken, and steps over the bodies.

“Has everyone already evacuated?” Hanzo asks, walking the empty, silent corridors. He waits a moment, but there is no answer. “Jesse?” No answer again, and Hanzo picks up his pace. If a jammer has been activated, then the building is not as empty as he thinks, and he could face a group of Volkov's people instead.

He takes the stairs down, not trusting the elevators. Approaching the ground floor, he sees the door handle wiggle. Pulling his gun from his holster, Hanzo presses himself to the wall, aims at the door and when it opens, he breathes a sigh of relief, seeing Jesse step through.

“I could have shot you,” Hanzo chides, taking the last flight down. 

“Sorry sweetness, but comms are down.” Jesse holds out his hand. “Let's get you out of them clothes. We need to fly under the radar.”

Taking Jesse’s hand, Hanzo follows him into an office. Jesse locks the door behind him, turns, and cups his face. “Was so worried about you,” Jesse murmurs. He glances down, seeing the wound in his shoulder. “It go through?”

“No.”

“Fuck. All right, nothing we can do but get you bandaged so you don't bleed out.” He slides off his backpack, placing it on the desk. “Angie can do the rest on the ride back.”

Hanzo nods, getting his injured side out of the jacket before struggling out of the other side. He winces in pain. With the adrenaline starting to wear off, it is getting too great to bear.

“Let me,” Jesse murmurs, and Hanzo sighs, letting Jesse help him out of his clothes. He is gentle, careful, working slowly despite the need to get as far away from here as possible. As he takes off his shirt and takes a proper look at the wound, he grimaces. “I'm so sorry, Han. Must be painful.”

“I will manage,” Hanzo mutters as Jesse opens his backpack. 

“Got pain relief at the very least,” Jesse says, pulling out an ampule and administering it. 

As the pain fades, Hanzo smiles. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Jesse says, and Hanzo leans in, kissing him. Jesse smiles, winks, and digs through his bag, pulling out a bandage. He makes quick work of bandaging his shoulder, and when he is done, helps him into a t-shirt and hoodie.

“Where did you get these?” he says as Jesse holds out a pair of jeans.

“May have stopped in a store, got me a five finger discount.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo scolds. 

“What? You can't exactly be walking the streets of St Petersburg with a hole in your suit while bleeding out now, can you?”

_ Got your back. Always have, always will. _

Hanzo smiles, and as Jesse helps him out of his trousers and into the jeans, as he feels his stomach fluttering fiercely, he has the realisation: Jesse will be the person he spends the rest of his life with. Jesse risked the mission for him. Jesse risked his life coming here, helping him into plain clothes when no one else did. He thought he loved Jesse before, it's reached a new level now. 

“What's with the goofy smile?”

Hanzo's eyes snap to meet Jesse's, and he shakes his head. “It can wait until we are on base.”

“A'ight,” Jesse says with a wink. “You're all set, and we need to get outta here.”

Jesse holds out his hand again and Hanzo takes it, following him out of the building and onto the busy street. 

And as the street fades away, leaving Hanzo alone in Genji's bedroom, he presses his fingers to his shoulder, massaging the phantom ache away. “He will always have my back,” he murmurs, looking at himself in the mirror. 

“You dressed?”

“Yes,” Hanzo says, turning around, seeing Genji step out of the bathroom. 

“You are lucky to have him. He always protects those he loves.”

“And I will protect him.”

“Save it for your vows,” Genji says. He looks Hanzo up and down, smiling softly. “They would have been proud if they had been able to see you now.”

Hanzo huffs a laugh, swallows the lump in his throat. “And they would have been proud of you, too.”

Genji nods, then suddenly pulls Hanzo into a tight hug. Nothing is said, nothing  _ needs  _ to be said. Hanzo closes his eyes to stop the tears threatening to spill. 

Eventually, Genji pulls away and takes a step back. “I am glad I get to see this. To see you truly happy.”

“Me too,” Hanzo says, coming out as a whisper. He clears his throat, smiles, and looks at the door. “I suppose it is time.”

“Yep,” Genji replies. “Let's not keep your husband waiting.”


	6. When It Was Love at First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Meeting the Family

Hanzo is eerily calm, given he is about to be married. Considering his stomach was practically doing flips leading up to getting dressed, and now, heading to the cliff’s edge right at the back of the base—finally seeing Jesse after what feels like an eternity but in reality has only been two hours—he is calm, despite it all. 

He  _ is  _ eager to see Jesse all dressed in his suit. Jesse kept it hidden from him, just as Hanzo kept his hidden. Genji went with him to the suit fittings and said that he looked good. Hanzo does not doubt that for a moment—Jesse always looks his best in suits. 

“It is like I am meeting him for the first time,” Hanzo murmurs as they step outside the base. The spring sun shines down, the sky is cloudless. A perfect day.

“You never told me your first impressions of him.”

Hanzo huffs a little laugh. “He was the last you introduced me to, and it was a tiring experience, meeting everyone.”

“‘Cause he was on the training range with Peacekeeper and you’ve seen the thing, heard how loud it is. Figured he’d be close to done before we got there.”

“You severely underestimated my ability to hold a conversation.”

“I think everyone was scared of you.”

“What did you say earlier? That you had to convince Jesse I was not going to murder him because my face is too serious?”

“Your resting bitch face is the king of all resting bitch faces.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes. “It did not help that you referred to all of them as your family.”

“They were. Are. Half of them were old Overwatch, and the rest I formed close bonds with almost instantly.”

“Well, it was very intimidating. So thank you for that,” Hanzo says flatly. He can feel that intimidation, even now almost two years later, and as they pass Winston’s lab, he remembers his first introduction.  

“Shimada-san.” Winston bows deeply, and Hanzo bows back. Winston stands back at full height, adjusting his glasses. “Welcome.”

“Thank you, but please, call me Hanzo.”

“Hanzo. Genji has told me much about you, and we are looking for people of your skillset.”

“I am happy to provide my services.”

Winston turns to his side, looking at the woman standing beside him. “This is—”

“Hi there!” the bright, bubbly woman says, taking a step forward and positively grinning. “I’m Lena Oxton. Or Tracer. Whatever you feel like calling me, really, I think everyone has their own personal nickname for me!” She giggles, glancing at Genji. 

“Lena and I train all the time. She buzzes around, like a fly.”

“I  _ blink _ ,” she says, folding her arms across her chest, “thank you very much!”

“She’s fly, I’m wind.”

Hanzo looks between them, realising there is a lot more history here than Genji led him to believe. Smiling—what feels like the sake of smiling at the very least—he settles on Lena. “I think I will stick with Ms. Oxton.”

“Ooh, classic, I love it!”

“Please, make yourself at home,” Winston says. “Genji will show you to your quarters and give you a tour, introduce you to anyone along the way I assume?”

“Those I find. Anyone else can come to us, or wait for dinner, or will have to wait until after the mission.” Genji looks at Hanzo. “We’ll meet the ones who are here before though, they are eager to meet you.”

A part of Hanzo is surprised at how accommodating Winston and Lena are, and another part of him is waiting for this to blow up in his face. “I am looking forward to meeting them.”

“Good!” Genji drapes an arm over Hanzo’s shoulders. “We’ll drop off your bags, I’ll give you the grand tour. Despite how derelict the base looks on the outside, there are people inside.” 

“If you have any questions, Hanzo,” Winston says, “my door is always open.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo replies, bowing his head. 

Genji leads him inside, and once they round a corner, he whispers, “See, wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“They were nervous.”

“They’re always like that with new people.”

“Now that I am here, is there anyone I should be concerned about?”

They stop in front of a door, and Hanzo takes note of his name above the keypad. “You can set a pin or use a fingerprint if you want,” Genji says. 

“I would prefer pin.”

Genji nods. “Athena, Shimada Hanzo would like to set a pin for his room.”

“Of course. When you are ready, Shimada Hanzo, please input a four-digit code.”

Hanzo glances at Genji, and Genji turns around. Hanzo stands in front of the keypad front-on, setting his pin as  _ 2468 _ ; simple to remember even numbers. The keypad beeps and the door unlocks, and Hanzo steps inside.

The room is small and simple, with a bed against one wall, a desk and chair on the other. He places his bags down beside the bed, and steps into the adjoining bathroom, containing a shower and toilet. 

“It’s small,” Genji says, standing beside Hanzo, “but better than what it used to be.”

“It is enough,” Hanzo replies, looking at Genji. “Where are your quarters?”

“Around the corner. They’re being filled out with each new addition,” Genji says with a chuckle. “I’ll show you, then we can make our way to the mess hall and rec room, I’m sure there will be people there.” 

Hanzo nods, looking at his bags before leaving the room. They pass several rooms with names on them, Genji’s room is only five down from his, and it is incredibly close to the recreation room. 

The sound of a movie playing can be heard coming from the room, and Hanzo follows Genji inside. Two people are sitting on the couch, they glance at them, sit up and pause the movie.

“Hana, Lúcio, this is my brother, Hanzo.”

“Hey man,” Lúcio says, standing up and extending a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Genji’s told us so much already.”

Hanzo takes Lúcio’s hand, shaking it. He wonders just how much he’s told them. If they know the full story.

“Nice to meet you,” Hana says. She stands up and bows. 

“And you,” Hanzo replies.

There is a pause, and the silence is almost deafening. 

“Well,” Genji says suddenly. “Don’t know if you play computer games, but there are a few computers in there,” he says, pointing to the door on the opposite side of the room. “Otherwise, this room is open for use anytime. We do weekly movie nights on Sundays, Hana does game nights on Tuesdays.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Hana says. 

“I do not partake, sorry.”

“It’s cool,” she says, smiling, and Hanzo can hear a slight hint of relief in her voice. “You’re probably not into western’s either. It’s Jesse’s turn to pick a movie tonight and it’s going to  _ bad _ ,” she groans.

“I’m sure Hanzo will get a kick out of it,” Genji says. “A lot of old Japanese samurai movies inspired the westerns Jesse likes.”

“They are significantly better,” Hanzo replies.

Hana bursts into laughter. “Don’t let Jesse hear you say that!”

“Probably not a bad idea,” Genji says. “But he can take a joke, so don’t feel like you  _ can’t _ make fun of him. We all do it.”

Hanzo looks between Hana and Lúcio, both of whom are nodding furiously in agreement, then to Genji, hoping  _ one _ of them will end this silence and tell him  _ why _ they make fun of this man.

“You’ll see,” Genji says. “Mess hall, infirmary, workshop, Winston’s lab, gym, then training range. That’s where Jesse is right now.”

Hanzo nods. “Lead the way.”

The adjoining mess hall is what he would expect for a military base, with chairs set up around a communal table. If there is one thing he has noticed already, it is that everyone here is close. 

The infirmary is what he would expect too, although the technology in use appears to be state of the art. Genji leads him into an office in the back of the room, and Hanzo sees a woman sitting at the desk.

“Angela?” Genji says, knocking on the open door. 

She looks up, glances between them and smiles, although it is incredibly thin and wary. “Hello, you must be Hanzo.”

Hanzo bows his head, stepping inside. “Yes.”

“Angela Ziegler is our doctor. You get anything at all, a cold, an injury, you just come and see her.”

“I am sure he knows what a doctor is, Genji,” she says. “My clinic hours are from eight in the morning to eight in the evening, though I am available after hours if required.”

“We tend to not do anything which might see us injured after seven thirty, because Angie deserves a break, too.”

“It is nice, yes,” Angela says, “but sometimes accidents happen.”

Hanzo nods. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, we’ll get out of your hair,” Genji says, abruptly ending the conversation. “You look busy.”

“I am, but it is fine.” She looks at Hanzo and smiles, a little more genuine than before. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Hanzo says, following Genji out of the infirmary. Once the doors are closed, Hanzo exhales long and slow. 

“Everything okay?”

“This is exhausting,” Hanzo mutters. “I can see that their behaviour is forced.”

“They are nervous.”

“You have said.”

Genji stops, and Hanzo turns to face him. “They… Know our history. Angela was the one who healed me.” 

Hanzo nods slowly. “That certainly explains  _ her _ behaviour.”

“I told them I was inviting you. Not asked,  _ told _ . Told them that if they have a problem with it, with you, they can go through me first.”

“I can take them.”

“They’re not going to fight you.”

“And I don’t need your protection.”

“I’m not protecting you,” Genji says calmly despite Hanzo’s rising frustration. He looks past Hanzo before walking again, and Hanzo walks in step with him. “We have been friends for over a decade. I trust them, and they trust me.”

Hanzo only hums as Genji continues the tour. He is thankful that between the workshop and the gym they don’t run into anyone else. The training range though, he can hear the sound of the gun well before they approach, and stepping inside, Genji hands him earmuffs. He slips them on, activating the microphone.

“Jesse’s gun is loud,” Genji says, voice crackling. “Come and see.”

Hanzo follows behind Genji, stopping when they see the back of a man. He is working with mobile dummies, their movement patterns are seemingly random, yet he is able to accurately predict their movements. He does not miss a shot, not one, and every single one is in the centre of the dummy's head. 

“These mobile targets are programmed, there are fifty different movement settings, including this random one Jesse is using,” Genji says. “There are ones which will fire hardlight projectiles. They sting if they hit, but it’s nothing to cry over. There are also stationary ones, too, if you wanted to get a feel for them.”

“Absolutely,” Hanzo replies, watching Jesse. He wants nothing more than to sink some arrows into these targets.

But right now, he is content on watching Jesse, at how fluid his movements are, at how impressive his skill is. Hanzo has seen many people on countless training ranges, but he has not seen anyone as skilled as Jesse.

An alarm sounds, and the targets stop moving. Jesse stands up straight, holsters his gun and takes off his ear protection, prompting Hanzo to do the same.

“Athena,” Jesse says, and Hanzo honestly was not prepared for that deep rumble of his voice. “Score?”

“Three hundred and twenty five.”

“Not bad,” Jesse drawls. “Not bad at all.” He turns, settling on Genji first, then Hanzo, and he smiles. A big, genuine smile, and Hanzo cannot help but smile back. “Shoot, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I had an audience. Were you here long?”

“Five minutes, if that,” Genji replies.

“I’m McCree.” Jesse crosses the distance between them in quick, long strides and takes the glove off his hand before holding it out. “Jesse McCree.”

“Shimada Hanzo,” he says, taking his hand. Jesse’s hand is warm, his grip tight. He meets Jesse’s warm hazel eyes, getting lost in them. “But Hanzo is fine.”

“Well then, Hanzo,” Jesse replies, and Hanzo smiles wider at his perfect pronunciation, “you can call me Jesse.”

“Jesse. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine,” he says, chuckling, and it is a little laugh that Hanzo can live off of for the rest of his life if he wanted. “Genji’s told me so much about you.”

“Only good things,” Genji says, draping an arm over Hanzo's shoulders. 

“Your skills are impressive,” Hanzo says, only realising he is still holding Jesse's hand when Jesse tries to pull away. 

“Eh,” Jesse shrugs, “I'm pretty good.”

“He is too modest,” Genji replies. “And you're not one to hold back, either. You know how good you are.”

“Well I'm not gonna brag,” Jesse says, smile turning into a grin as he looks at Hanzo. “Not till I've seen you in action, at least. Genji tells me you're quite skilled with a bow.”

“I am ‘pretty good’,” he says with a smirk.

“Well then, how about we schedule in some training. Say, tomorrow morning at eleven?”

“I will see you then.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” Jesse replies. “Oh! You're coming to movie night, right? Goin’ to put on A Fistful of Dollars. It's a classic.”

“And inspired by Yojimbo, which is also a classic.”

“Well now,” Jesse says, absolutely beaming, and this man could not get any more handsome than he already is. “Ain't this a lovely surprise.” He looks at Genji. “You didn't tell me your brother has an excellent taste in movies.”

“I didn't know his taste in movies had absolutely plummeted since we were kids,” Genji says flatly.

“It's an acquired taste,” Hanzo replies, not taking his eyes off Jesse. “And yes, I would love to join you tonight.”

“Fantastic.  _ I _ will see you then,” he says, still grinning. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

Hanzo bows his head, and Jesse turns, puts his ear protection back on unholsters his gun and approaches the mobile targets again. 

“Athena, when you’re ready.”

The sound of the targets moving fades away, the training range gives way to the cliff’s edge, and Hanzo looks at Genji again, smirking at his shocked face.

“I  _ knew _ something was up with you!”

“You did not say anything.”

“You seemed pretty overwhelmed, and I figured you’d mellowed out heaps since you left the clan. I  _ should _ have realised you were into him back then. I thought you were just being competitive.

“I  _ was _ being competitive—” Hanzo pauses when his eyes settle on Jesse, and it takes all of his willpower not to run up to him and leap into his arms. He has to maintain composure, because the rest of the watchpoint are waiting and looking right at him. 

Although it feels like an eternity, with each step Hanzo takes, his smile grows wider, and Jesse meets Hanzo with an equally big grin. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Jesse says, holding out his hands, and Hanzo grabs them, holding tight. 

“I was just enjoying this lovely stroll with my brother,” Hanzo replies. He looks Jesse up and down taking in the charcoal coloured suit, the burgundy tie, and his warm eyes, just as warm as that first day. “You look very handsome.”

“As do you,” Jesse replies softly. He clears his throat, looks away and chuckles, glancing at Fareeha beside him. “Told you it’d be instant.”

Fareeha rolls her eyes, settling on Hanzo. “ _ I  _ gave him the benefit of the doubt, you know, figured he’d make it to his vows at the very least.”

“I’m an emotional guy,” Jesse says, looking back at Hanzo, his eyes welled with tears. “Never thought I’d see myself here, and despite everything, I’m glad it’s with you.” He lets go of Hanzo’s hand, just for a moment, and cups his face.

Leaning into the touch, Hanzo closes his eyes and breathes, keeping the tide of emotion at bay. He opens his eyes once he is convinced he is not about to cry, and settles on Jesse’s smiling face again.

“We’ve ah… got an audience waiting for us,” Jesse murmurs, and Hanzo glances at them, seeing Hana wave before looking at Jesse again.

“Let’s not keep them waiting, then.”


	7. The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Engagement/Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it finally! My greatest apologies for the delay, this is why I write ~80% of a fic before posting so I don't miss schedules like this. But what's done is done.
> 
> I want to extend the greatest of thanks to Magisey, this fic would not be here, nor as good, without your support, your kind words and your betaing. Thank you, so very much <3
> 
> I've added an explicit sexual content tag, because ofc they're going to enjoy their wedding night ;-) and like, they've barely had any time together this entire fic! It's in the second half of the chapter and can be skipped if it ain't your jam, but you can at least enjoy the wedding!!

Hanzo takes a deep, shuddering breath, standing before everyone. 

Having Genji beside him is comforting, as is Fareeha standing opposite. Jesse, of course, is the biggest comfort, from the small smile on his face to Jesse's hands in his; he knows nothing in the world can hurt him. Jesse is his partner, his best friend, and after this, his husband.

Jesse smiles wider, and Hanzo smiles back. Hanzo notes the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, how watery they already are, his big, wide, brimming grin. This is his love, his gorgeous, handsome man. 

“Friends,” Ana starts, gaining Hanzo's attention. “We are gathered here today to witness the union between Jesse and Hanzo. I was asked by Jesse to officiate today's proceedings, and as someone who has seen him grow as a person over the years, I could not have been more proud. 

“Although I was a late arrival in this newly formed Overwatch, the moment I laid eyes on Jesse, I knew he had found someone. But not just anyone, no, he had found the _ one _ .” 

“Apparently I can be read like an open book,” Jesse says, earning him everyone's laughter.

“I've known you since you were eighteen,” Ana continues. “I've seen you grow from wayward teen, someone who showed no respect for anyone, to valued colleague and friend. I might have missed a part in the middle, but I could see the twinkle in your eye, hear the hopefulness in your voice which wasn't there before.

“When I was first introduced to Hanzo, I knew it was him. ‘Hair as dark as ink, eyes you can get lost in, sparkling like a galaxy in the night sky,’ was all Jesse told me.”

“Stop,” Jesse says, covering his face with his hand. “I haven't _ told _ anyone this, let alone Hanzo.”

Hanzo cannot help but grin, and he squeezes Jesse's hand to get his attention. “How about we level the playing field?” he murmurs, and Jesse pulls his hand away. Glancing at Ana, Hanzo gives her a nod; this will be embarrassing, but he will have a laugh with Jesse about it after.

“Naturally,” Ana says, “I was going to have a conversation with the man who unlocked Jesse's heart. I discovered that Hanzo's infatuation started with him from day one. ‘What attracted you to him,’ I asked.” She pauses, looks at Hanzo. “You said his skill is impressive, and when I see his smile, my world gets a little bit brighter.’”

“Han…”

Hanzo looks from Jesse to Ana, and she nods. He clears his throat as he looks at Jesse, squeezing his hands tight. “I loved you for a long time. Much, much longer than you loved me. I spent a long time hoping it was not one way, oftentimes trying to keep the feelings repressed, because who would love me…” 

He glances at their joined hands, just for a moment, before meeting Jesse's eyes again. “Spending three months sharing a living space with you kicked my feelings into overdrive. I grew used to your company. Your breathing, gentle snoring while you slept became a safety blanket I did not realise I needed until you were away on a mission. I could not sleep without you there, and I knew that there was no way I could face living alone.

“Telling you that I loved you was the hardest thing I had done in over a decade. I was not sure if you loved me, not in the same way at least, and I put everything on the line. I put our friendship on the line, but I needed to tell you how I felt. I was so happy when you accepted, and after that moment, we shared the first kiss of what would be countless kisses.”

Taking a breath, smiling at the tears streaming down Jesse's face, Hanzo glances at Genji, and he hands him Jesse's ring. He takes Jesse's right hand, lining the ring up to his ring finger. “I promise to love you, to support you, and to protect you, from this breath, until my last.” He slides the ring on, looking Jesse in the eye as he does it, and chokes back a sob when it is done. “I love you,” he whispers.

Jesse takes a deep breath, glancing at Fareeha and opening his hand, she places the ring in his hand. Hanzo holds out his right hand; they had a discussion about ring placements and Hanzo agreed to have it on his right hand, matching Jesse. 

“I will admit,” Jesse says, voice wavering. He inhales and exhales slowly, and Hanzo strokes his hand with his thumb. “I didn’t love you for as long as you loved me. We formed an instant friendship, though. I had someone else who liked the same movies I do, who laughed at my bad jokes, who was a delight to have a drink with and  _ still _ does all of those things. I never saw myself as settling down material, never thought anyone would want me in that way, so I guess you can call me a little dense,” Jesse chuckles, and the group laughs along as Hanzo just smiles at him. 

“When you moved in, doubts starting swirling in my mind. Your whole demeanour changed, and I thought I’d done something to ruin our friendship.” Jesse pauses, smiling wide. “Not once did I think that you were struggling with coming to terms with being in love with me. It took some time, but you warmed up again. I saw a side of you I’d never seen before, a side no one else has ever seen, and I started to develop feelings for you. 

“Time went on, and neither of us said anything. We were flirting like crazy though, right up until you were ready to leave ‘cause your quarters were ready again, and I am so incredibly thankful you told me how you felt because when you turned your back on me, I was kicking myself. 

“So I vow never to hold back again, to love you, cherish you, protect you and have your back, no matter what.” Jesse slides the ring on Hanzo’s finger, and Hanzo smiles, eyes flitting to Jesse’s again. “I love you.”

“Well then,” Ana says, looking between them, “Jesse and Hanzo have declared their love for each other in front of us all. Without further ado, I declare you husband and husband.”

Hanzo does not waste any time, pulling Jesse down into a kiss. The sound of applause and cheering fade into the background, and just for a moment, the only other person in the world is Jesse. 

As the kiss recedes, the applause comes rushing back, and Hanzo does not let go of Jesse’s hand; not through the signing of the certificates, not through dinner, not through the speeches, the laughter, the dancing. 

And now, watching everyone as they shuffle around, clearly inebriated and stuffed with too much food, he finally has a moment alone with Jesse. “Today has been a long day,” Hanzo sighs, resting his head on Jesse’s shoulder. He looks at their joined hands, at their matching matte black rings, and smiles. 

“Missed you those two hours, you know.”

“What did you and Faree get up to?”

“Just talked. Reminisced, really. About us. Happy memories. Like when I fell in love. When we made the decision to do this,” Jesse replies, gesturing to the room with the wave of his hand.

“I did the same.”

“Oh yeah? What did you talk about?”

“Meeting you for the first time, when I noticed your body for the first time—”

“Oh my God,” Jesse groans. “With Genji?”

“You have an amazing body, it deserves to be talked about.”

Jesse hums. “What else?”

“Being your secret admirer. The day we became roommates. The Volkov mission.” Hanzo smirks, pulls his head up and smirks devilishly. “Cards Against Humanity.”

“Playing the ass to mouth card, I hope.”

“Of course.”

“Best card play in the history of card plays,” Jesse murmurs, bringing his head down and kissing Hanzo’s neck, little nips, usually reserved for the bedroom as he makes his way to the spot right behind his ear. “I’ve had a semi for the better part of an hour, and I can’t stop thinking about undressing you with my teeth.”

Hanzo feels the first sparks of arousal at the very thought.  _ If  _ he had been wearing anything else. “You will do no such thing, a kimono is meant to be respected.”

Jesse groans. “C’mon, you gotta give me something.”

“The nagajuban.”

“I’ll take it. And since you brought it up, you’re goin’ to sit on my face. It’s not negotiable.” Jesse licks the shell of his ear, and heat pools in Hanzo’s core. 

“How much longer must we stay?” Hanzo asks, squeezing Jesse’s hand tighter. 

Jesse pulls up, winks and stands, and Hanzo’s mouth waters at the sight of his bulge. He claps, gaining the attention of the room and Lúcio pauses the music. “Hanzo and I are goin’ to call it a night. Keep on partying without us.”

Hanzo stands, gives the room a bow of his head as they applaud and cheer, takes Jesse’s hand and leads him out of the room. The music starts up again, and it fades as they round the corner, disappearing completely when they enter their room. 

He pulls Jesse in with the same sort of desperateness of leading him into the bedroom for their first time, and the second the door is closed and locked, Hanzo rushes forward, leaping into Jesse’s arms. They kiss, fierce and hard and desperate, and Jesse walks him to the bed, placing him down. 

“Thought you said something about respecting kimono?” he says, breaking off the kiss. “Not exactly good behaviour to wrap it around your lover like that.” 

Hanzo rolls his eyes affectionately, stands, and gets out of his clothes. Everything is hung meticulously on a spare hanger back in the closet, and the moment Hanzo is down to his nagajuban, Jesse is on his knees, hands on his thighs, pulling on the tie with his teeth. 

Hanzo can see the pure desire in Jesse's eyes, and when it is untied, Jesse's hands trail up Hanzo's torso, pushing it open. Jesse grips his waist, warm lips press against his abdomen, moving down towards the band of his underwear. He makes no attempt to remove them as he keeps kissing, down his clothed erection, breathing in deep.

“Missed you so much, and I’ve been wanting you all day,” Jesse murmurs, looking up and winking. He hooks his fingers inside the waistband of Hanzo’s underwear, pulling them down, and the second his cock bounces free, Jesse's lips are wrapped around it. 

Hanzo moans softly, placing his hand on top of Jesse's head and tangling his fingers in his hair. He does not encourage Jesse's movements, but he does pull slightly, with the right amount of pressure that Jesse loves, feeling the vibration of his moan when he knows he is there. 

The pressure in his core builds, Hanzo feels his knees weaken when Jesse pushes down further and further, and slams his hand down on Jesse's shoulder to keep his balance when he takes him all the way. 

Jesse swallows around him once, twice, before coming off completely, looking up at him and swiping the head of his cock along his bottom spit slicked lip, grin on his face.

“You should get out of your suit before you make a mess of it,” Hanzo says, watching Jesse palm himself through his trousers. “Besides, I want to fuck you before I sit on your face.”

“You certainly know the way to my heart,” Jesse says, chuckling as he stands. He undresses, slowly, removing his jacket first over the course of literal seconds, and it is seemingly intentional if the sly smirk on his face is anything to go by. He folds the jacket and tosses it to the back of the desk chair, and the second he rolls his hips, Hanzo knows this is intentional, so he sits on the bed, taking himself in his hand and pulling languidly when Jesse stands between his legs. 

Jesse unbuttons his shirt just as slowly, revealing inch by inch of his gloriously hairy, muscled chest. Hanzo bites his lip as he pulls the shirt back, gives him the moment to drape it over the back of the chair too, and the second Jesse returns, Hanzo's reaches out, placing his hand on Jesse's chest. 

He makes no moves to undress, just fluidly rolls and sways his hips to some silent tune. Jesse has never given him a striptease before, and a part of him is surprised Jesse possesses this skill and has not shown it before now. 

Jesse places his hands on his chest, cupping his pecs and pinching his nipples, and Hanzo exhales forcefully, tightening his grip on himself, enamoured by the display. He slides his hands down, over his abs and onto his belt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor. 

Like the tease he is, Jesse looks down at him, giving him the sexiest bedroom eyes Hanzo has ever seen, and slides his thumbs into the band of his trousers before undoing them. Hanzo sees a flash of blue, but before he can even process what he is wearing because he knows Jesse does not own any blue underwear, Jesse turns around and Hanzo is presented with his ass. Jesse looks over his shoulder and winks, and Hanzo pulls his trousers down, his breath catching in his throat when he is greeted with a blue thong and Jesse's perfect ass.

“What is this?” Hanzo asks, grabbing handfuls of Jesse's ass, before sliding his hand up and snapping the band on his hip.

“My something blue.”

“Your what?”

“You know? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Jesse sighs. “Old tradition, what someone wears on their wedding day. For example, the boots are my something old, the suit is my something new, the cufflinks on the shirt, they're my something borrowed, and this,” he turns around, and Hanzo's groans at the sight of Jesse's cock simply unable to fit in the underwear, to the point that the head is poking out. “Is my something blue. Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” Hanzo breathes, eyes flitting to Jesse's. “I am going to fuck you while wearing this.”

“Want nothing more,” Jesse says, sitting in Hanzo's lap and kissing him with burning desire. 

Hanzo places a hand on the base of Jesse's spine, rubbing his cock against Jesse's until he can no longer stand this teasing, and he quickly turns them, laying Jesse on the bed. 

Jesse rolls over onto his stomach as Hanzo reaches for the draw of the nightstand, pulling out the lube. He settles between Jesse's legs, cups his ass and spreads him, biting his lip when he sees the band covering his entrance. Giving a final firm squeeze, Hanzo lubes two fingers, plucks the thong and holds it out of the way as he massages Jesse's entrance. He pushes in slowly, penetrating and scissoring as he leans down, kissing Jesse's back. 

Jesse pushes back on his fingers, rocking his hips, and they fall into a rhythm. Jesse’s only vocalisations are the small moans with each passing sweep over his prostate. When he is relaxed, and reaching the limits of his patience, Hanzo pulls back, lubes himself up, massages Jesse’s entrance with the excess lube before lining himself and pushing in slowly, savouring the drag. 

With his hips pressed to Jesse, Hanzo lies on top of him, hooking his arms under him. He rolls his hips, thrusting slowly to start. Jesse moans quietly, and Hanzo kisses his neck, his shoulder. “Let me know when you are close,” he murmurs, increasing his speed. 

Hanzo moans, feeling the pressure in his core build. Each moan from Jesse pushes him closer and closer to orgasm, and he slows, because he is so incredibly close to coming and he does not want to finish inside him.  He gives Jesse a moment, and when he does not say anything, even though the sounds of his moans are indicative of him being close, Hanzo stops. “If I keep going I will come,” he says. 

“I'm getting there,” Jesse whispers. “Reckon I could come with you sitting on me though.”

Hanzo nods, kissing Jesse's neck before pulling out and sitting up. Jesse rolls into his back, and Hanzo climbs on top of him, legs beside his chest, feet tucked under his shoulders and Jesse hooks his hands around Hanzo's thighs. The moment Hanzo feels Jesse's tongue lick gently at his entrance, Hanzo moans, long and loud; he is already so close it will not take much more than this. 

Jesse thrusts his hips, and Hanzo knows he is closer than he led on. His cock is poking out the top of the thong, and Hanzo can see his slit glistening with precome. Sliding his hands down Jesse's torso, Hanzo pushes the band of the thong down enough to wrap his hand around Jesse's cock, and he licks against Jesse's slit.

“Not gonna last long,” Jesse says, muffled.

“Me either.”

“Don't hold back,” Jesse says, and before Hanzo can respond, Jesse tongue fucks him.

Hanzo moans and sucks on Jesse's cock. When Jesse's hips start bucking, Hanzo pulls back, tightens his grip and jerks him off. He moans again, Jesse is unrelenting, switching from tongue fucking to massaging and licking, and when Jesse's tongue slips back in, he falls, pushing back against Jesse's face as he comes. 

Jesse keeps licking through Hanzo's orgasm, and Jesse follows closely behind. The first shot gets Hanzo in the chest, the rest dribbles down his hand, and once Jesse is done, Hanzo sits up, turns around, leans down and kisses him, slow and sensual until he can no longer taste himself on Jesse's lips. 

“I love you,” Hanzo breathes, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Jesse's. “So much.”

Jesse wraps his arms around Hanzo, holding him tight. “I love you too, husband.”

Hanzo opens his eyes, looks into Jesse's, and smiles. “My husband.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Jesse's 'something borrowed' is the cufflinks, and those cufflinks belonged to Gabe. 
> 
> He found the cufflinks in a box in Gabe's closet when he was cleaning it out after Switzerland. The box had his name on it, and inside it were a few things: a note detailing how proud Gabe was of the man Jesse had become, some photos, the cigar band from that one cigar Jesse got him for his birthday, and the cufflinks. 
> 
> Hanzo, of course, knew about this, about the box and the note and the cufflinks. He knew Jesse was going to wear them, as a way for 'Gabe to be there in spirit'. That's why I didn't include this in the chapter itself, it would have massively taken away from the story. I did mean to include this in, I simply forgot :/
> 
> \---
> 
> Hello! If you've made it this far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your love for this fic pulled me out of some rather dark thoughts I hadn't had in well over a year. 
> 
> I've said it before, and I will say it again. I honestly can't thank Magisey enough for everything, really. <3
> 
> I've got some stuff in the pipeline, an idea which has taken off like a rocket so I'm riding that until it ends or I burn out, it's absolutely self-indulgent and I finally feel like I'm in a good place again. 
> 
> And I'm planning on doing [Bendoverwatch Kink Week](https://twitter.com/BendoverwatchPF/status/1081749918820245506?s=20), which will, hopefully, go a little smoother than this haha. (link now in here because something went wrong and the one in comments links to my twitter whoops!)
> 
> I'll see you out there!  
> \--Chillie.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) Come say hi!


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